Chucky's Equal
by RussianWolf7
Summary: Chucky is on a killing spree like always, and meets a strange girl who actually wants to join him. It's not as bad as it sounds, really. Also humor and drama. Takes place after Seed of Chucky. And sorry about the bad title of doom.
1. Nicole

Disclaimer: I don't own Chucky cries. But that's ok. I can always pretend. The…the…the whatsitcalled that Chucky uses to make the doll come alive is from the movie and not mine. I got it from this site:

http/ thanks!

A/N: Yes, this is a Chucky love story. I can't help myself, m'kay?

xOxOx

I was on one of my usual killing sprees, and I was finally staring to feel better. Ever since Tiffany left me and took Glen…Fucking ungrateful bitch. But that seems to matter a lot less when I have a knife in my hand and two dead bodies sprawled in front of me. This time it's an older man and his newest piece of meat. It makes me fucking sick that there women who will have sex with old men just for money. Then again, I wouldn't put that beneath Tiffany.

Someone screamed behind me. A high, piercing sound. Definitely a teenaged girl. Which surprised me, because I thought I was the only one left alive in the house. Oh well; all this meant was more to kill. The more the merrier, after all. I turned around.

Ok, so maybe she wasn't in her teens. Definitely not out of college, maybe still in high school, but probably not. She had green hair pulled back into a spiky bun and was wearing tight, light blue jeans. She had on an oversized shirt that had a gun on it and said My Chemical Romance in big letters. She seemed pretty decent…and what she was doing in this house with these two people I had no fucking clue.

"What the fuck!" she screamed. Then her eyes widened. "Oh my god are you Chucky?"

I stared at her. "Yeah, I am."

"Where's Tiffany?"

My eyes narrowed. "She's not fucking here."

The girl stared at me. "You killed them."

I grinned. Much better. Talking about killing is much better than talking about Tiffany. "Yeah." She continued to stare at me, not saying anything. "Well? Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna start running?"

"Uhh…Brain clog."

I have to admit, I was starting to get confused. Most people start running and screaming when they see me, not just stand there ogling. "What?"

She shook her head. "Total brain clog…Can't think."

Then she fainted. Which left me with the interesting question of what I'm going to do with her. Then I shook my own head. What the hell am I thinking? She's an easy target – passed out on the floor and all, I really couldn't ask for anything more. I walked over to her and raised my knife. She giggled. In her sleep. I stared at her.

"What the fuck…"

"Heeheehee."

I kicked her in the side. She opened her eyes and sat up, holding her stomach.

"Why the fuck did you do that?"

"Why the fuck did I do that? Maybe because I'm a sadistic serial killer. Ever think of that?" I said, in somewhat of a daze. This was not how it was supposed to be going. What the fuck was wrong with _her_? Was it possible that she was as insane as I was? It didn't seem likely, but then again, anything's possible. My son is a fucking pansy who thinks he's a girl half the time, so who knows.

"But…Oh, yeah. Right. That makes sense."

I was getting really confused. "Will you shut the fuck up so I can kill you?"

"That's not nice. Don't kill me. You've already killed them. Aren't you done yet?"

"Alright. What the fuck is your problem?"

She shrugs. "Hey, I'm not the one going around killing people."

She had a point there. But I wasn't about to admit that. "So, what are you doing here?"

She smirked. "Changing the topic much? But anyways, that bitch is my older sister and she dragged me along to meet her fucking fiancé. He's only, like, seventy. Well, Tony just turned seventy, but whatever. Thanks for killing her, by the way."

"Uhh…right. Anyways, I have some bodies to dispose of."

"So you're not going to kill me?"

I wasn't quite sure when I had decided not to kill her, but I guess I had somewhere along the way. But what exactly was I supposed to say? "No, sorry, you're too hot and too psychotic, I'd rather take you with me?" No, I don't think so. So I completely ignored the question and started dragging her older sister towards the nearest closet.

"Well?"

"Would you shut the fuck up? I have work to do." Onto the second body. Almost done. But then I'll have to decide what to do with her. Hmm…I wonder if there was anything else nearby to kill.

"Yeah, but I need to know if I should start running or not."

I slammed the closet door closed and leaned against it, looking at the girl. She really was very strange, in a hot sort of way. Her hair was a stranger color than mine, which I appreciated. Sort of. I was used to being the strangest person…doll…whatever, around. Besides, she was confusing the hell out of me.

"If you run, I'll have to kill you."

She stroked her chin. "Decisions, decisions. If I don't run, will you turn me into a doll and take me with you?"

I rolled my eyes, hoping that would make me seem nonchalant. Did she actually want to come with me, or was she just being sarcastic. Most people wouldn't dare say anything like that around me, either way. I did need someone to replace Tiffany…I had forgotten that killing by yourself got lonely. No one to gloat over dead bodies with.

"Yeah, why not? Have you ever killed anyone before?"

"And get sent to jail? Fuck no. But if I did go with you, can we start with my seventh grade math teacher? Please?"

What the fuck. It couldn't hurt to turn her into a doll. And hey, it might help. "Let's go find you a doll." I started walking towards the door when she stopped me.

"If you can turn me into a doll, why can't you turn yourself into a human?"

I froze. Interesting question. No reason, really. But it pissed the hell out of me that she thought of it first. Then I remembered my reasoning for why I was still a doll. "Because nobody believes you when you say that a doll killed your family."

"Oh, yeah. That makes sense. But I don't have any money."

I rolled my eyes again, this time for real. "What makes you think I can't steal one?"

"Right. Duh. Ok, let's go."

xOx

After a bus ride spent in her backpack, we reached the local Toys R Us. I had realized along the way that I still didn't know her name, but I couldn't exactly start talking to her in the middle of a bus, so I had to wait until we got to the store. Luckily she had to go to the bathroom, and even luckier, the bathroom was empty.

"What's your name?" I asked, as she stuffed me into her backpack so I wouldn't see her.

"Nicole Merrill," she replied. "And your name is Charles Lee Ray, but everyone calls you Chucky. Obviously."

"Yeah, yeah. Rub it in."

She didn't take long in the bathroom, and we were soon in the doll aisle.

"Oh my god I haven't been here in soooo long," she squealed. Then she actually looked at the dolls. "These are so stupid. How could I have ever possibly liked Barbie's?"

I snorted. "Offensively proportioned, disgustingly preppy and unbelievably girly. What's not to like?"

"Shut up!" she hissed, apparently suddenly remembering that I was a doll. Luckily nobody heard.

I have to say, Nicole is the most indecisive person I have ever met. After the first half hour, I was poking her in the back when nobody was around. After the first hour, I was ready to scream at her to hurry the fuck up. A couple seconds before I did scream, never mind who heard, she finally picked up a doll. She was smaller than me by about six inches, but that doesn't really matter. She had straight red hair coming halfway down her back, violet eyes with black eye shadow and black lips. She was wearing black, baggy pants and a white corset.

"How do I steal her?" Nicole whispered to me.

"Go into the bathroom," I whispered back.

Once we were there and I had locked the door, I turned to her.

"I'm going to have to kill you now," I told her.

Her eyes got wide and she looked like she was about to panic. "Kill me? How? Is it gonna hurt?"

I pulled a gun out of her backpack. "I'm going to shoot you."

"Chucky, no. I'm scared."

She was, I could tell. Not like I didn't have plenty of practice. Normally I didn't care, but now I did. I would have patter her hand, but I was on the floor and she was standing up. I smiled at her. "It won't hurt, I promise. As long as you stay still and let me hit the right place."

"Should I sit down?" she asked nervously. "So you can reach?"

"Yeah, sure," I replied, even though I knew I could hit her just fine from at least twenty feet away, probably more. Like I said, plenty of practice. Nicole sat down, and I stood next to her. "Close your eyes if it'll make you feel better."

She did, and I raised the gun and put it against her temple when she jerked away. "What if something goes wrong?" she asked. "What if I don't come back?"

"You will, I promise. Just let me do this before somebody notices the bathroom's locked." Nicole closed her eyes again and I fired before she had the chance to move again. ­I turned to the doll. "Ade due damalla. Give me the power, I beg of you! Mortisma ledipacour demobilesei. Entere pourquese damalla. Awake!" Unlike with Tiffany, the doll sat up immediately.

"Chucky?" Nicole said nervously. She looked down at herself. "It worked?"

I smiled. "Yeah. Now let's get outta here."

xOx

Somehow we managed to get out of the Toys R Us without being seen. We sat behind the building, a safe distance away from where anyone would notice us.

"Where do we go now?" Nicole asked. "What do we do?"

"Whatever the hell we want," I told her. "We're dolls – we can get away with anything because, in the minds of most people, we're impossible."

She crossed her legs and started fiddling with her many rings. "But…" She looked away from me. "Chucky, I'm scared."

This was not what I had expected. Not after she had walked in on me murdering her sister and soon-to-be brother-in-law. Not after she had talked to me like that. Not after she had wanted to turn into a doll and come with me. But hey, I guess everyone has a soft side. Mine's just on permanent vacation.

"Of what? Nothing can hurt us," I reminded her.

"Not like that. It's just…" Nicole paused. "Different, I guess." She turned towards me and smiled. "I'm fine. Let's go have fun."

xOxOx

Well, I hope you all like it so far. I tried really hard to keep Chucky in character, but this isn't exactly the kind of situation he's usually in. Lemme know if I should continue or not.


	2. First Kill

Disclaimer: I still don't own Chucky. Just everything else.

A/N: Here's the next chapter. I was going to add in Alex, but I figured that would turn it into a comedy, so I changed my mind. But I love you anyways! Besides, if I did, you'd probably end up dead. Or Morgan. Definitely your mom. So be happy.

xOxOx

I was definitely feeling better. A young couple lay dead in front of me, blood still gushing from their freshly cut necks. Oh, yeah, this is what life is all about. A perfect end to a perfect day. Didn't even think about Tiffany once. Nicole's goddamn good distracting when it comes to that. Heh, I wish I could introduce her to Tiffany. That bitch would probably start yelling at me about child molestation. Like she'd fucking care that I haven't touched her.

Nicole turned from the dead bodies and smiled at me. "So, Chucky, what do we do now?"

Then again, if she kept on talking to me like that, I wouldn't last long. I had no fucking clue if she knew what she was doing to me, and I had a sinking suspicion that she didn't. At any rate, I'd be taking a cold shower sometime tonight. "We could fuck."

"Okay!" Nicole had a big smile on her face, and I was pretty sure she was being sarcastic. Then she laughed, and any hopes flew out the window. "Seriously, though. I'd normally go home and watch a movie, but…"

Fuck. She thought the idea was amusing. "What makes you think I'm joking?"

"Uhh…" She stared at me. "I dunno."

I rolled my eyes. "We should find someplace to stay for the night. Police are gonna be swarming all over this place any minute now." That was true; both of the victims had screamed pretty loudly, and I was sure the neighbors had already called the police.

"Like where?" Nicole asked. "Neither of us have a home, or someplace we can go for the night."

"Don't you have any friends who'll let you crash at their house for the night?" I asked her.

"Looking like this?" She gestured to her new doll body. "I don't think so. Especially with you."

"Come on, Nicky. There has to be someplace."

"No! There isn't!" Nicole yelled at me. "I'm sure my house is swarming with cops and there's no chance in hell I'm gonna drag any of my friends into this."

I sat down and put my head in my hands. I had to think quickly. I could already here the sounds of sirens, and if we didn't get out of here soon, we'd be bagged and locked away in a compartment called "Evidence" in the local police station. I had spent way to much time there in the past and there was no fucking way I was gonna stay there again.

"I thought you knew what you were doing," Nicole sighed, sitting down as well. "I thought you'd take care of me."

She was pulling a guilt trip on me. Tiffany used to do that all the time. Bitch. "Yeah, well, I thought you'd know enough to gag them."

Nicole stared at me in amazement. "What the fuck! I _told_ you I've never killed anyone before! I think your exact words were 'Watch and learn,' or was I imagining things?"

No, she wasn't. Just like Tiffany, she was always right. What had I gotten myself into? "On our way here you were telling me about all the horror movies you've seen and all the horror books you've read. So I skipped over the basics. So what? I didn't think you were that stupid."

"Well you didn't gag them either."

I waved the knife in her direction. "You want to be next? Shut up and let me think!" Of course, by now I couldn't really think at all, and I heard the first police car pull up in front of the house. "Great," I snapped. "You just earned us a night in the evidence bag. Don't talk and don't move." This she seemed to understand, because she put her arms and legs out and smiled. A true doll. I did the same thing.

There was a loud knocking on the door. "Police!" a masculine voice shouted. "Open up!" When nobody answered, he busted the door opened. "Oh, God. Killingly, call for back-up!"

Time passes very slowly when you can't move. More police came. They took pictures, dusted for fingerprints, examined the grounds for footprints and, of course, put me and Nicole in bags to take down to the station. Separate bags. So much for my perfect evening.

I spent the next couple hours sitting in my bag, not moving. I got sorta carsick during the ride, and I hit my head pretty hard when they threw me into the locker. Luckily, they put Nicole in the same one as me, so I only had one lock to break open. She had enough sense to stay quiet until I was absolutely positive we were alone in the evidence room.

"Good going, Nicky."

"Fuck you," she hissed.

She didn't say anything else as I clawed my way out of the bag. I felt around in the locker, and smiled when I found my knife. Those idiot police officers. Then again, I suppose it's not their fault. Dolls possessed by demonic serial killers aren't all that common, right? I grabbed the bag she was in and cut a hole in it. Nicole glared at me, not coming out.

"Well? Don't you wanna get outta here?" I asked angrily as I started to work on the lock.

She kicked me in the ass. "Not with you."

I froze. When I could finally move again, I turned around and faced her. "What the fuck is your problem? I'm gonna get us out of here. I've spent ten years in one of these things, and the novelty wears off real quick."

"Ten years?"

"Yeah." As soon as I turned away and went back to work on the lock, I smirked. Maybe she was starting to understand why we had to stick together.

"It takes you ten fucking years to get out of one of these?"

"Only when I'm in pieces. I had to wait for Tiffany to break me out." The lock finally cracked when I said Tiffany's name. Maybe it had something to do with the amount of force I had used…

"Hah."

"Shut up and help me get down from here." I turned to her and held out my hands so she could lower me at least some of the way down.

"No."

"What do you mean, no?"

She smirked at me. "I mean no. Jump. It's not gonna kill you. And hey, if it does, then I'll have the amulet and I can turn myself back into a human. I'll just say you had me as a hostage and I escaped. No biggie."

I stared at her. "Do you really wanna turn back into a human?" She didn't seem to have an answer. "Look, could you just give me a hand here?"

"Yeah, fine." Nicole came over and lowered me down so I only had to jump a few inches.

I looked up at her. "So are you gonna come with me or not?"

"Catch me," she whispered, and jumped. As it was, I wasn't expecting it. She crashed into me, sending both of us to the floor. Exactly something Tiffany would do. Why do all the women I meet have to be hopeless romantics?

"Oof," she said, rolling off me. "Why didn't you catch me?"

"I wasn't expecting it," I groaned. "Do you hear any footsteps?"

She listened. "No."

"Ok, good. Next time give me more notice," I said, picking up my knife and walking over to the door.

"Lift me up so I can see if anyone's there," Nicole said.

I did, and she said it was clear. "See if you can open the door," I told her. She turned the knob, and the door opened.

Nicole laughed. "They're so fucking stupid."

I put her down, and motioned for her to be quiet. We crawled out of the room and down the empty hallway before encountering any problems. The main room, which we had to go through to get out the door, were crammed with police officers.

"Isn't there a side door?" Nicole asked. "Like in Scream?"

"Yeah probably," I said, and started to craw in the other direction. Down through the empty hallway and past the evidence room was a back door. I grinned at her. "Guess you're not that bad after all." I lifted her up again, she opened the door, and we were free.

As soon as the door was closed, Nicole yawned. "I'm exhausted. Where do we sleep?"

It was an interesting question. Amazingly enough, I still needed that cold shower. And, eventually, sleep. But that seemed a lot less important than taking care of my problem. Thank god for baggy clothes. "Well we could-"

"Hello, Chucky."

xOx

Yes, it's short. Yes, it's an evil cliffy. But hey, as soon as I upload this, I'm starting in on the next chapter. So don't get too angry.


	3. The Return of the Bride of Chucky

Disclaimer: Don't own Chucky, Tiffany or Glen/da. Other, cooler people do.

A/N: I really want to wait to post this so the cliffy will have a chance to set in but I have to write, so this'll probably be posted a day or so after I actually write it. Even though it's pretty goddamn obvious who it is. At least to me.

xOxOx

My mood dropped. I'd recognize that voice anywhere. Tiffany…She had followed me. Actually, she had probably tracked me down when she realized I had stolen the amulet from her. She would be wanting human bodies for herself and Glen. She's probably going to try to kill me…Again. But this time I had someone to help me.

"Oh my god Tiffany!" Nicole shrieked. I slapped my head. This was the absolute last thing I needed. She not supposed to freak out. She was supposed to be all tough and cool and help me kill this bitch. Knowing my luck, she'd probably end up going with her. Perfect. Just perfect. At least Glen wasn't here yet. He was probably waiting in a car.

"Chucky, what did you do?" Tiffany asked angrily.

"Hey, she wanted come," I said. As if that would help. At all.

"Omg I love your voice!" Nicole squealed.

Tiffany actually smiled. "Oh, why thank you." How more self centered could she get? Jesus Christ.

"Tiffany, could you fuck off? Please?"

She laughed. "No, I don't think so. But I think we can move this conversation to somewhere a little safer than outside a police station. How did you get caught again? I thought you were the master at avoiding the police." Tiffany led us through a hole in the back of the gate surrounding the station and down a street.

"That's what I said," Nicole replied.

"It was her fault." I glared at Nicole.

"Oh, really."

By then we were reached an RV. Tiffany opened the door. "­Start driving," she said to the man sitting up front. He was in his early forties, and looked terrified. The only reason he hadn't escaped when Tiffany came to get me was because Glen was sitting in the front seat holding a gun. I was pleasantly surprised. Maybe he had changed.

"Hey, Glen, good to see you're learning the family business."

"It's Glenda," Tiffany said before my son had a chance to say anything.

"Can't you let me talk to my son without attacking me?" I asked.

She laughed again. "The attacking is for later. If you don't give me the amulet."

I snorted. "Fat chance."

Tiffany reached down and pulled a knife out of her boot. And she accused me of being a cliché. "I think we can probably work something out, don't you?"

"No, I really don't."

Tiffany sighed as if she had been expecting this. "Then you leave me with no choice." She reached over and grabbed Nicole and held the knife to her neck. Nicole screamed. "Give me the amulet, Chucky."

Of all the things I had expected, this wasn't one of them. Not after all that "We have to stop killing, Chucky" and "Chucky, Killing is evil" crap.

"Give it to her," Nicole pleaded. "Please."

Oh, fuck. I almost thought that she would tell me to keep the amulet and just let Tiffany kill her. Then I would have had more of an excuse to fight ­Tiff. As it was, it would seem like I was fucking in love with Nicole no matter what I did. Great. Thanks, Nicky.

"You heard the girl. Give me the amulet."

Glen turned to us. "Mummy, let her go."

Dear lord, thank you for small children. Tiffany turned towards her son, a pained expression on her face. "But Glenda, I have to so we can get bodies."

"I don't mind being a doll that much," _Glen_ said. "Please don't kill her."

Alright. So maybe it's not all bad that he's a pansy. But I couldn't exactly say that out loud. So instead I threw my knife at Tiffany's back. It went deep into her, and she stopped moving. Nicole screamed again and wrenched herself away, running over to my side of the RV. Go me. Tiffany slowly turned towards me. A trickle of blood ran down the corner of her mouth.

"You bastard," she whispered, and fell over. Dead once again.

Glen screamed. "Daddy you killed her!"

"Son, I had to. One day you'll understand," I said, walking over to him and putting an arm around him. Pansy or no, he was still my son. I glared at the man driving, who was staring at Tiffany with horrific wonder. "Keep your eyes on the goddamn road," I snapped at him. He did. "So, where did Tiffany tell you to go?"

"D-down to some c-cemetery in N-new Jersey," he stuttered.

Chucky laughed. "So she wanted to bury me with my body? She always had a warped sense of humor."

"Daddy, who's the other doll?" Glen asked me.

Oh, yeah. I still hadn't introduced them. I made a mental note of Glen's quick recovery speed, then I said, "Glen, this is Nicole. Nicole, this is…" I actually looked over at Nicole, and I was shocked to see she was pulling the knife out of Tiffany. "Nicole, what are you doing?"

She glared at me. "You asshole. You didn't have to fucking kill her."

I was outraged. I had just saved her life, after she had fucking _begged_ me to, and now she was saying that I didn't have to? This was fucking priceless. "You ungrateful little bitch," I hissed, walking over to her. "You're just as bad as Tiffany. I should kill you, too, and forget you ever existed."

Nicole slapped me. Hard. "I fucking hate you! I have no fucking idea why I wanted to come with you in the first place!" She started crying, and she turned away. I saw her stiffen. "Where'd Tiffany go?" she whispered.

I whipped around. No, she wasn't behind me. I had forgotten how hard it was to kill possessed dolls. "Oh, fuck," I swore as I felt the cold metal of Glen's gun press against the back of my head.

"I'm only going to ask you one more time, Chucky," Tiffany hissed in my ear. "Give me the goddamn amulet."

She didn't really give me much of a choice. Even if blowing my head off didn't immediately kill me, I would be sent to limbo, which fucking sucks. And then when somebody finally did sow me back together, I'd look even worse than I do now. So I pulled the amulet from around my neck and handed it to her.

"Here you go, bitch." I said it almost happily so she would think I had done something to it. It worked.

She glared at me, gun still against my head. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing!" I said. "Jesus, Tiff, why do you have to be so goddamn suspicious. Maybe I just value my fucking life. Ever think of that?"­ I could hear Nicole crying quietly in a corner of the RV and all I wanted was to get out of here. I was about to collapse from exhaustion, and I couldn't let Tiffany know. At least I wasn't hard any more. That would've just been over the fucking top. "Now could you let us out of the fucking car?"

"Hmm." She fastened the amulet around her neck and then pointed the gun at me again. "No, I don't think so. But I will let you sleep, the both of you. I'm sure you're very tired." So much for the whole not telling her thing. "Give me your knife, and whatever else you have with you."

I held up my hands. "Nicole has my knife, and she left her's in the evidence room."

Tiffany turned on Nicole. "Hand it over."

Her eyes flashed. "And what if I won't?"

Tiffany gestured the gun at me. "Then I'll kill him."

Nicole shrugged. "Go ahead. I was gonna anyways." I stared at her in disbelief. I suppose she could've been acting, but she seemed pretty goddamn convincing. It hurt in some fundamental way, in a way that I didn't think I could feel anymore.

Tiffany laughed. "I know the feeling." She pointed the gun at Nicole instead. "But you've already given away that you want to live. So give me the knife."

I could see Nicole eyeing the distance between herself and Glen, deciding it was too big, and slid the knife across the floor. Tiffany picked it up and tucked it into her boot. "Thank you. There's a couch down there that you two can share. I'm assuming you don't mind." She grinned at me, and I would've tackled her had she not had a gun pointed at me.

"Fuck you," I snapped as I followed Nicole to the couch. I jumped up, and as soon as i felt the soft pillows beneath me, I yawned. Tiffany laughed.

"Nighty-night," she said, and settled down on a chair, presumably ignoring us.

Nicole was already curled into a ball on her end of the couch. She was hugging her knees and her eyes were open very wide. I touched her shoulder.

"You ok?" I asked.

She glared at me. "Fuck off, Chucky," she spat, and turned the other way. I sighed, and lay down, not thinking I would be able to sleep. As it was, I fell asleep almost immediately. Guess I was more tired than I thought.

xOxOx

Well, there it is. Chapter three.

Notes: When Chucky says "Oh, really" I was so tempted to put in something about the O RLY owls, but I didn't. Just know that I wanted to.

Alex: Sorry if I got you all psyched about adding you in, but it got too funny, and I needed me and Chucky to start fighting, and then I got the idea about Tiffany, so it just didn't work. So sorry. :wipes away a tear:


	4. How to Kill the Bride of Chucky

Disclaimer: Get off my back. Not mine.

A/N: Character death. But it's ok because it has a happy ending. Besides, it's a Chucky story. What do you really expect?

xOxOx

The first thing I thought when I woke up was how ironic it was that I had wanted to introduce Nicole to Tiffany. Maybe, if I hadn't thought that, none of this would be happening. Who can tell with super-naturally possessed dolls? But it didn't really matter how I got here. What mattered was how I was going to escape without my trusty knife to help me.

"So, you're finally awake," Tiffany drawled. She was sitting on the floor opposite me, gun resting in her lap. "That's good. We'll be at the cemetery in half an hour or so."

I glanced over at Nicole. Still fast asleep. I was starting to formulate a plan, and if I was going to act on it, it would be better if she was asleep. I wouldn't want her to get the wrong impression. "How're you gonna get bodies for you and Glen?" I asked.

Tiffany glared at me. "Glenda and I will find them after I kill you."

"What about Nicole?"

"I'm sure she's not a bad girl. She just got caught up in the romance of psychotics. She can come with Glenda and I."

"And if she doesn't want to?"

"I really think she will."

I shrugged. "Whatever." I slid off the couch, and Tiffany pointed the gun at me. "Stop pointing that at me, Tiff. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Get back on the couch."

I rolled my eyes. "If you insist." I climbed back onto the couch and looked at my wife. "Y'know, maybe we should think about this."

Tiffany laughed. "Don't try to get all romantic on me now, Chucky. It's a little late for that."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a ring. White gold and diamonds. I had been saving it to sell, but now seemed like a better time to use it. "Better late than never, right?" I slid off the couch again, and walked towards her. I knew she wouldn't shoot me. She was too curious. I got down on one knee. "I'm gonna ask you again, because I think you need to hear it again. Tiffany, will you marry me?"

I could see her struggling to say no. She wanted to, she really did. But, as always, her romantic side was winning. "You already tried that and it didn't work. Remember?"

"Yeah, but I really mean it this time. I promise I'll do anything for you." I sighed, and looked down at the floor. "I won't deny it. When you first left me, I was fucking elated at the freedom. But I got lonely real fast. I had forgotten how much better it was to kill with someone by your side." I looked into her eyes again. "With you, Tiff. I even tried to get myself another partner," I said, gesturing to Nicole. "But it's just not the same. I love you, Tiff. I really do."

"Oh, Chucky," she sighed, and I thought it had worked. "If only I could believe you." Damn. "Honestly tell me you haven't been sleeping with Nicole."

I smiled. She walked right into that one. I guess she didn't know that I had only just met Nicole. "Not once. I swear. Ask her yourself if you don't believe me."

"How do I know you're not just making this up?" Tiffany asked.

I held out the ring again. "Because this ring is from Tiffany's. It's worth a hell of a lot of money. If I really didn't love you, I wouldn't be giving you my ticket to freedom."

I could see it in her eyes. Whatever else she said was moot. I had convinced her. She took the ring, looking at it carefully. "Well, at least you're not lying about the ring."

I heard Nicole stirring behind me. Fuck. The last thing I wanted was for her to think that I was still in love with Tiffany.

"Chucky? What's going on?" she asked in a sleep slurred voice.

Tiffany laughed. She pointed the gun at Nicole. "What do you think, Chucky? Should I shoot her now, or wait until we get to your grave?"

I forced myself to look Nicole in the eyes. "Why not wait until we get there? Like you said, we're pretty close. In the mean time, she can wallow in self-pity that she wasn't smart enough to realize who she was dealing with."

She stared at me, eyes welling up with tears. "What are you talking about?" she whispered.

"You honestly thought that I cared about you?" I laughed. "Nah. Tiffany thought it would be funny to lure someone into thinking that we had separated. I told you she had a warped sense of humor."

"You fucking bastard!" Nicole yelled. She jumped off the couch and started to run for me. Tiffany fired right next to her, and Nicole yelped. She tripped, and fell down. She looked up at me. "Why?"

"Like he said," Tiffany said, blowing the smoke away from the top of the gun, "it was funny."

I'm not going to lie: part of me was enjoying this. A nostalgic part, reminiscing for the old days. Me and Tiffany against the world. But those days were gone now. Long gone. They had died with my old body, rotting away until they were nothing but a pile of bones locked in a coffin buried beneath ten feet of earth.

I shook myself. This was not the time to be thinking about the old days. This was the time to pray like hell that I was gonna get out of here alive. In other words, to keep Tiffany believing me.

I wrapped an arm around Tiffany's waist. It was disturbing how easy it was to slip back to when I was actually in love with her. "Sorry, Nicole. Maybe if we had met under different circumstances…"

"Mummy, we're here!" Glen called excitedly from the front seat.

Tiffany and I smiled slowly. She pointed the gun at the door. "Get out," she said.

"And don't try anything funny," I said.

Glen opened the door and stepped down. Nicole slid after him, slowly and quietly. Tiffany jumped down after her, and threw me my knife back.

"Kill the driver," she told me.

I would've rather kept him alive for a quick getaway, but that would've been pretty goddamn obvious if I didn't. So I slit his throat, then followed the three down to my grave. I looked at it almost fondly. So many memories.

Tiffany looked at me. "Shall you do the honors, or do you want me to?"

"I think it would be tastefully ironic if the last thing she saw was your face, don't you?" I said. This was all going to have to be timed very, very carefully. Even if everything went as well as I could possibly hope for, it was still pretty goddamn unlikely for me and Nicole to come out alive.

Tiffany giggled. "I do like the way your brain works." She paused. "At least sometimes."

Of course. One of the many, many reasons why I hated her so much.

She walked towards Nicole, gun raised. "Any last words, sweetie?"

Nicole seemed to consider this. "Yeah. I miss my sister," she said, and started to cry. It was a very, very smart thing to do. She had obviously realized Tiffany's soft spot: sad children.

Tiffany looked confused. "Did Chucky kill her?"

Nicole nodded, crying harder. "We…we were b-best friends."

Tiffany turned on me. "How could you do that?"

Ok, so maybe it wasn't all that smart. Now the gun was pointed at me. "Tiff, she and her sister hated each other. Her sister was about to marry an old rich guy for his money. You would've been proud of me for killing them. That bitch," I pointed at Nicole, "is hoping you'll take pity on her and let her go. You can't possibly believe her."

Tiffany thought about it. "You're right." She turned back towards Nicole. "Nice try." Her finger was tightening on the trigger when I stabber her in the back with the knife…for the second time that day. Her hand went limp, and she dropped the weapon. It went off on the way down, shooting Tiffany in the foot. How more ironic can you get? I twisted the knife in her back, enjoying the little sounds she was making. I had been waiting to do this for a very, very long time.

"So sorry, Tiffany," I hissed in her ear. I grabbed the amulet from around her neck and caressed it. There had to be a way to make sure she stayed dead. "Ade due damalla. Give me the power, I beg of you! Mortisma ledipacour demobilesei. Entere pourquese damalla. Sleep eternally!" Nothing happened at first. I sighed and put the amulet back in my pocket. Then all of a sudden Nicole shrieked and I whirled around. Glen was turning into dust and disappearing. That must mean that it had worked. No Tiffany, no Tiffany's kid. But he was my kid to, and I guess I had grown to love him in my own sort of way.

"Glen!" I called out, rushing to where he had been standing. His clothing was in a pile on the ground, but he was no where to be seen. Tears started leaking from my eyes, and I couldn't remember the last time I had cried, if ever.

Of course, that was exactly when Nicole grabbed my shoulder and whipped me around. She slapped again, as hard as she possibly could. It stung like hell, a I bet I had a goddamn imprint of her hand on my face.

"You fucking asshole! I'm gonna fucking kill you! How dare you lie to me like that!"

"In case you hadn't noticed," I snapped, "I killed Tiffany. For good this time. And I ended up killing my only son in the process, so if that doesn't convince you I'm serious, nothing can."

She glared at me. "You lied to me."

"To save your life!"

"Yeah, right. You only did it to save your own fucking skin."

I threw my hands up in the air. "There's no talking to you when you get like this."

"When _I_ get like this!" Nicole screamed. "Oh, I'm so sorry if the fact that you were about to get me _killed_ upsets me! It's just so unreasonable, right?"

So I did the only thing I could think of. I kissed her.

xOxOx

Yeah I hope I didn't make to many of you cry by killing of Tiffany. Glen I just sorta had to get rid of because he didn't fit in my story line. I know it doesn't really make sense, but you can pretend it does, right?

I know Chucky gets a little sentimental towards the end, but he just killed his son. Even if said son tried to kill him before, I still think he would care. Besides, if you haven't figured it out yet, I am a romantic and I am obsessed with serial killers, and I am convinced that they good underneath their…their whatever it is that makes them serial killers.

It's another evil cliffy of DOOM!


	5. Let's All Forget It Ever Happened

Disclaimer: I'm sure you're all sick of it, but I have to do it: I don't own Chucky, Tiffany, Glen or anything else from the movies. I own Nicole and any other OCs and the story.

A/N: This chapter is _not_ coming easily. I've started it at least three times already, and it refuses to write. Sorry it took so long to post, but it just wasn't cooperating.

And thanks to Mom for the raindrops on roses part.

xOxOx

Nicole froze. I pulled away, looking at her curiously. I wasn't quite sure why I had done that, and I don't think she was either. I was feeling so unlike myself that I actually shook my head. I could hear sirens in the distance and tried to at least think of a plan, but nothing came.

"Chucky?" Nicole said. "Police are coming."

Avoidance. Great idea. Reassessment of the situation: Nicole and I were in a graveyard with a dead doll, a pile of doll's clothing and a dead body in a nearby van with our fingerprints all over everything. There was no immediate way of escape. Conclusion: More evidence bags.

"Barbie mode," I said.

"What?"

Oh, right. Tiffany knew about that, not Nicole. "No talking, no moving."

"Another night in evidence, eh?" she said, but did what I told her to do.

I don't think I really need to repeat what happened between then and when we could talk again. In all honesty, I don't remember most of it. I was lost in memories of Tiffany where she suddenly became Nicole. I kept on trying to replay what happened tonight, but my mind wouldn't let me. The more I didn't think about it, the more I forgot. I _thought_ Glen was had been there, but I wasn't sure anymore.

By the time Nicole had ripped her way out of her bag and had opened mine as well, I had blanked out most of the night. I remembered seeing Tiffany, and something strange happening with Nicole, but that was it.

"Chucky?" she said. "Are you ok?"

"Uhh…" I couldn't come up with anything more coherent than that. Actually… "Is my knife here?"

"Yeah," Nicole replied, and handed it to me.

I took it, and suddenly I saw the knife sliding into a doll's back, and blood pouring out of the wound. Then it was gone, and I couldn't exactly remember what the memory was in the first place. "Thanks." Nicole was looking at me strangely, like I should be saying something. Another thought flashed through my head, but this time I didn't even see what it was. "What?" I snapped.

She turned away. "Nothing. So, are you gonna get us out of here?"

I thought about asking her why we were here in the first place, but I figured that getting out of here was more important, and that I could ask her later if it seemed important enough. I turned and looked at the lock. I frowned. It was much bigger than all of the other times, and I wasn't sure if I could break it or not. Maybe the police were finally starting to wise up.

"Well?"

"Shut up and let me work," I snapped, and started banging on the lock with my knife. Not so much as a dent. "Fuck."

"What?" Nicole moved over to where I was and looked over my shoulder at the lock. "Is there something wrong?"

"Considering your mentality last time we were in here, no nothing's wrong at all," I said.

"What're you talking about?" she said shakily.

"Don't you remember? You didn't want to leave. And now you've got your wish." Her eyes got all wide and I could see she was about to scream. I clapped my hand over her mouth. "I don't care how fucking claustrophobic you are, you can't scream. Do you understand me?"

Nicole nodded. She took a deep breath when I moved my hand and curled herself into a ball. "I am very, very scared," she said quietly.

"Calm down. We'll get out of here eventually," I said, even though I knew no such thing. The last time I couldn't get out on my own, I had waited ten years. And she knew that. So I didn't think I was being all that reassuring. I really wished I could've blamed her for this, but since I didn't remember anything, I was out of luck. For all I knew, this had been my idea.

Nicole look away and whispered something very, very quietly that sounded like "Could I have some macaroni?"

I sighed. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

She glared at me. "Fine then. Be that way."

"Be what way?"

"You can't bear to hold me just long enough for me to calm down? You were the one who came up with this plan, remember?"

No, actually, I didn't. But at least I understood what she was talking about. "Oh, you want me to _hold_ you," I said.

She glared at me. "What did you think I said."

"Something about macaroni."

She snorted. "No, not exactly."

I shuffled over to Nicole and wrapped an arm around her.

"Thank you," she whispered, and settled down so her head was in my lap.

"No problem." Except it was. A big problem. I was happy that she was lying on me…a little _too _happy, if you get my drift. I tried to think about things that would turn me off…Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens…

Nicole rolled over so that she was looking up at me. Her head was resting directly on my…problem, and I wondered if she could feel it. Part of me, a big part, wished she could, but whatever little common sense I had hoped she didn't.

"What're we gonna do?" she asked. "What if we really can't get out?"

"I promise we will," I said nonchalantly, or so I hoped.

"I don't trust your promises. You promised both me and Tiffany that you weren't lying, so obviously you were lying to one of us."

I had no idea what she was talking about. We had seen Tiffany? I had lied to her? I knew that I couldn't remember what happened earlier tonight, but seeing Tiffany? I didn't think I would forget that. And what exactly was I supposed to say to that? It seemed that I should say I was lying to Tiff, but I had no fucking clue. And to admit I didn't remember would be too big a blow to the ego than I wanted to take.

"What does it take to get you to believe a person?" I said, comfortable with my neutrality.

She sighed and rolled over again. Jesus Christ, if she didn't stop that soon, there would be no question of her noticing. In fact, there was little chance as it was. I wanted to get up more than anything, but I figured this wouldn't be the best time.

"Nothing. Never mind. I'm sorry." Nicole didn't say it like she was being sarcastic, as would make sense. She said it as if she actually believed it.

"Sorry?" I asked incredulously. "What do you have to be sorry for?"

"Telling you to give her the amulet. You should've just let her kill me and run. Then you wouldn't be here in the first place."

Okay, seriously, what the fuck was she talking about? Something about the Amulet of Damballa? It was starting to make a little bit of sense. Tiff had come for the amulet and taken Nicole hostage.

"And then you wouldn't have had to kill her and Glen would still be alive."

Glen died? Because I killed Tiffany? I pushed Nicole off my lap. "What the fuck are you talking about?" I shouted. "I wouldn't kill my own fucking son!"

She looked at me with wide eyes. "Chucky?" she whispered. "Chucky, what's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?" I bellowed. "What's wrong with you?"

Nicole started crying. I almost felt bad for her. If she really thought I would kill my own son, there was something seriously fucked with her. I was bad, but I wasn't _that_ bad, for Christ's sake!

"I saw you!" she stammered. "I was there! Don't you remember?"

"No, I don't!" I yelled. "I don't remember anything!" I felt lost, so lost. I had never felt like this before. Tiffany and Glen were dead? I had killed them? I could understand Tiff, but Glen? It didn't make any sense. And not remembering something that big so strange. Like maybe there was something actually wrong with me, like Tiff always said.

"Nothing? You really don't remember anything?"

"No." I felt defeated. That was it. I was bigger and badder than everyone out there, and _nobody ever defeated me_. Except, apparently, my own head. "I don't."

"Not even…?" Nicole trailed off.

I could feel my heart beating. What could be worse than killing my only family? "Not even what?" I snapped.

She sighed. "It's not important." Then she told me the rest of the night.

I sat down heavily. It made a little more sense. I hadn't meant to kill Glen. But I still didn't remember it, and it seemed like whatever Nicole wasn't telling me was why. "Jesus," I said.

"I'm sorry." She sat down next to me and put an arm around my shoulders. "It'll be ok, I promise."

Something was wrong with her story, though. If I had really killed Tiffany, then why wasn't she in the evidence room with us? I didn't want to say anything to Nicole; she had had a rough night too. Besides, it was pretty obvious if I reminded her where we were, she would freak, and I didn't want to deal with that. I couldn't. I needed to figure out what had happened to Tiffany.

"What aren't you telling me?" I snapped at her. "You have no concept of how important this is. I need to know everything." So maybe I wasn't above scaring her a little. For all I knew, Tiffany could be outside the door right now with a gun. Just because I cared a little about some girl didn't mean I had turned soft.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Where's Tiffany?" I asked.

"Down at the…Maybe in a different compartment?" Nicole asked weakly. "We probably didn't all fit in one."

I shook my head. "Not likely. There are different sizes of storage. Trust me, I've been in fucking huge ones."

"I don't know, but it doesn't have anything to do with Tiffany," she assured me. "Unless…"

I put my hands on her shoulders. "You _have_ to tell me."

Nicole kissed me, and I remembered everything.

xOxOx

Yes I know it's sort of cliché-y, but it works. Besides, it's longer than usual. And I actually managed to write it. Go me.


	6. Past and Present

Disclaimer: Not mine. Fuck off. Except Chucky. He can go on doing…never mind. Don't ask.

A/N: This is mildly disturbing, but I think I'm officially in love with Chucky, so I'm gonna try to keep the romance in check, but who knows how well it'll work.

I also just got a Chucky doll (I love you Abbie!), and it would be sitting on my lap but my mom is evil, so he's in bed, waiting for me.

Abbie, I love you so much for helping me pay for my Chucky doll, I've decided to work you into my story. Consider it my thanks. I'm not gonna give away how I do it, but don't get mad at me. Please. You know I love you.

xOxOx

I sat down. "Ok. We have to get out of here somehow so we can find Tiffany before she finds us."

"You don't care?" Nicole asked.

"Care about what?"

She sighed. "Never mind. But I think I know how we can get out."

"Why didn't you say anything before?" I asked angrily.

"Do you want to hear the idea or not?"

I glared at her. "What is it?"

"See, all I have to do is start screaming. A police officer comes to check out what's making that noise. Eventually he traces it to our locker. He opens the door, you slit his throat."

"And what about all of the other officers?"

Nicole smiled evilly and opened one of the evidence bags. "Lookie what I found."

"Tiff's gun," I drawled. "Now, that changes things."

Nicole started screaming. "Help! Help me, please! Isn't anyone there? Get me out of here! Please, please help me!"

She sounded pretty convincing. Then again, she was claustrophobic.

Soon enough we heard footsteps and a door open. "Hello?" a voice said. "Ma'am? Are you in here?"

Nicole started banging on the door. "I'm in here! Oh, god, get me out!" Then, to add some flare, "He's gonna kill me!"

"What the fuck?" the cop whispered. Keyes jangled, the lock gave and the door swung open. He shone a flashlight in my face. "Jesus Chr-" He started to scream, but I slit his throat. His eyes, wide open with fright and wonder, glazed over. He collapsed.

"Come on, let's get out of here," I said, and jumped onto the body. Shorter distance, softer surface.

"I don't want to leave," Nicole said softly. "I'm scared. It's safe here."

"You _don't want to leave_?" I bellowed. "You fucking bitch! Get your shiny, plastic ass out of there!"

"You're so fucking self-centered!" she screamed back at me.

Once I had the cop's gun in my hand, I could give her my full attention.­ "_I'm_ self-centered? I risked my fucking life for you! What more could you want?"

"Maybe for you to ask my opinion? Maybe-"

Three cops ran in the door, interrupting her. I turned to them and emptied the gun. They dropped. "Ask your opinion?" I hissed. "Ask your opinion on what, doll? We didn't exactly have time for a long, detailed conversation how I should kill Tiffany. Come to think of it, we don't have time for this one, either! Now get down!"

Nicole laughed and held up her hand. The amulet dangled from it. "No, Chucky. I want you to promise me that you'll pay more attention to me from now on. I want you to promise to take better care of me than Tiffany. Most importantly, I want you to promise me that we can finish this conversation."

I shot the floor of the locker a full millimeter before her feet. She screamed.

"You fucking bastard!" she yelled, and threw the amulet at my head. I reached up and grabbed it before it could hit me.

"Smart, Nicky. Give away your only bargaining piece." I thought I could hear sirens, but I was too angry to tell for sure. Could she be any bitchier?

"Fuck off."

"Fine," I spat and started to walk out of the room. I figured she'd come after me, and if she didn't, then she wasn't worth it. Part of me said that was bullshit, but I ignored it.

"Why do you have to be so mean?" she cried.

I stopped. Thinking about it, it was an interesting question. Why was I always so mean? It was fun, I guess, but like so many, the fun wore off. Was it just a habit then? Like killing had become?

Wait, hold up. What was I thinking? I was mean because I _am_ mean. That's just how I am. You could say I was born that way. And what right did she have to question that?

"I am mean," I said, slowly turning around to face her, "because it is in my nature. I am mean because I like to be. I am mean because it gives me satisfaction to see people, people like you, pissed as hell at me. I find it terribly amusing."

"That's bullshit," Nicole snapped. "Everybody is inherently good. You weren't born mean; something or somebody made you that way. Don't be a coward, Chucky. Own up to the truth: you made yourself this way because you're scared. You're weak. You just don't want people to know it. And, frankly, it's sort of pathetic. Everybody has their problems. Everybody has their insecurities. It's what makes us human."

I laughed. "I'm not human, hon. I'm a fucking _doll_."

Her eyes narrowed. "You know what I mean."

I decided that I didn't hear sirens after all. For once. But that didn't mean it was a good idea to hang around here for much longer. And, infuriatingly enough, I did want her to come with me.­­­­­­­ Why the fuck did I always have to fall for the fiery, obnoxious ones?

I sighed. "If I _promise_ to finish this with you later, can we split?"

"You promise?"

"Yes."

Nicole jumped down. "That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

"I promised later, not now. Now just do me a favor and shut up." A good night's sleep. That's all I needed. But where was I gonna get that? "Are there any hotels around here?"

"How should I know? We're in your hometown, not mine."

Oh, that's right. And that meant… "Come on. My old house is abandoned. We can crash there."

"How long a walk is it?" Nicole asked nervously, following me down the hall and out of the barracks.

I rolled my eyes. "A five minute drive."

"So how long to walk?"

"I don't know!" I snapped. "Math isn't my forte, you know?"

"And what would be? That perma-erection you've had since I've met you?"

I froze. Nicole actually walked into my back. Idiot. And there really wasn't anything I could say to that. So I started walking again.

She giggled. "That's what we decided my girlfriend would have if she had a dick."

I whirled around. "Your _girlfriend_? You have a fucking _girlfriend_ and you didn't tell me?" I was too angry to think. I was seeing everything through a red cloud. She had a girlfriend. She was fucking gay. I couldn't wrap my head around it.

"She broke up with me the night before I met you. That's the only reason I was with my sister in the first place, because I was too depressed to do anything else," Nicole said as if that explained everything.

"So you're gay."

"Bi," she replied. When she saw my expression, she said, "As in bisexual," as if she was talking to a very small child.

"I know what bi means, idiot," I snapped. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why does it matter?" She sighed. "Look, I'm really tired and I wanna get to your house so I can sleep. If you're so homophobic you can't stand being around me, then I'll go, but I want to know."

"I'm not homophobic," I said, and started walking. She followed.

"Is there anything else you want to know about me?" Nicole asked. "Anything else that might cause you to hate me?"

"What was her name?" I asked. "How long were you going out for? Why'd she break up with you?"

"I'll tell you, but you're gonna have to tell me why you care so much," Nicole said. "Her name was Abbie Holland. It was our five month anniversary, my 15th birthday. She broke up with me because she said I cared more about my obsessions than I did about her."

I raised an eyebrow. "You're only fifteen?"

"You got a problem with that?"

I shrugged. Ages were a lot less important when you're a doll. "What obsessions?"

"I dunno. The X-Files. Artemis Fowl. My Chemical Romance." She blushed a little. "You, mostly."

I made myself keep on walking. She had shocked me into stopping enough to last a lifetime. "Whaddya mean?"

"I dunno. I've always had a thing for serial killers. You just happened to be real. And a two-foot tall doll. She had a sort of obsession about that. She kept on yelling that you were only two-feet tall. She thought I spent too much time watching those movies they made about you and Tiffany. And Glen."

I laughed. I couldn't help myself. It pretty funny, if you thought about it. Nicole's girlfriend broke up with her because she had an obsession with serial killers, namely me, and I found her. "I knew there must be a reason why I like you."

She smiled vaguely. "Yeah. I miss her, though. We spent so much time together. And, at least until she snapped, she was the only person I knew who didn't mind me spazzing out about random people. Or dolls."

"What about your parents?"

"My mom died of cancer when I was twelve and my dad got killed in a car accident earlier this year. Don't wanna talk about them, though. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure." It occurred to me that I could use that to my advantage. What can I say? I'm mean, remember? "How'd sis end up with that guy?"

"Quid pro quo, Chucky. Why do you want to know all that, especially about Abbie?"

That sounded familiar, but I couldn't quite remember what from. Besides, I had more important things to worry about. Like what I was gonna say. "We have a long walk. It's around midnight, and I need to do something to keep you awake. I don't want to end up carrying you the whole way."

"Oh would you? Pretty please? I'll do anything for you, I promise!" Nicole squealed.

I rolled my eyes again. "No fucking way."

"Ass." She yawned again. "If we don't get there soon, you won't have a choice."

"Then hurry up."

xOxOx

I want to write more. Really, I do. But school starts up again tomorrow and I gotta get at least some sleep.

Sorry about that, Abbie. But at least I mentioned you. And eventually you'll end up breaking up with me because I'm too spazzy and care too much about my obsessions. Not that I care more about them than you, of course. But I can understand how it could seem that way. At any rate, we still have a couple months left till my birthday.

Besides, it's almost midnight and I'm fucking tired and most likely delirious.


	7. Poor, Pathetic Chucky

Disclaimer: Get over it. They aren't mine. Really. Only the Chucky doll that my girlfriend bought me (God bless).

A/N: I'm writing this at school on a strange computer with a strange keyboard, so if there are a ton of typos, I'm really sorry.

I just saw _Child's Play_ and I would still be spazzing over it if said girlfriend was happier. Instead she's all hidey in the woods and ignoring me and Abbie, if you're reading this, I mean no offense. I go hidey too. And I love you more than Chucky, I promise. And, unlike Chucky, my promises actually mean something.

Thanks to Charm for note about Chucky' character. Efforts will be doubled in this chapter. Thanks to Shale 101 for being the first person to review who isn't my friend. Thanks to Abbie for her portable DVD player.

xOxOx

I looked up at my old house, wondering why the fuck I had come here. I hadn't been here in over twenty years. It was probably falling apart. There wouldn't be any electricity or water or anything else. It must've been broken into a hundred times, judging from all the broken windows and the boards that had been pried away. Everything of value was most likely gone.

That alone wouldn't have bothered me. It was the memories that came flooding back, ones that I hadn't thought of in years. My workaholic dad, my alcoholic mom, my slutty older sister. But this ain't no sob story, so don't you go feeling sorry for me.

"Well?" Nicole asked. "Are we gonna go in, or are you just gonna stand there reminiscing all day?"

"We're going," I said. "I just don't know what we'll find in there." We walked across the dead grass and up to the door.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Mice. Rats. Crazy homeless people." I grinned, and starting tearing away the boards on the front door. I almost wished there would be someone in there; it would be one hell of an antidepressant to kill someone tonight. Then again, who said anything about being depressed?

"Crazy homeless people?"

I laughed. "Are you honestly scared that some old guy with most of his teeth missing is gonna kill you?" I pried the last board off and kicked the door open. It was pitch black and I couldn't see anything. "Especially with me by your side?"

She shrugged. "I might be less worried if I knew you cared enough about me to defend me."

I ignored her. Frankly, I didn't care if she believed me or not. I stepped into my house. The floorboards creaked and dust flew. How sickeningly cliché. I reached for the light switch automatically and then stopped myself. No electricity in here, unless the ghosts of my family were paying for it. Didn't seem likely; in life they had never had enough to pay the bills. I didn't see why they would in death.

"Come on, help me find a flashlight," I said, walking into the kitchen. It was amazing how well I remembered this place, even after all this time.

"How am I supposed to know where it is?" she said. But she followed me into the house, closing the door behind her. It made no difference; there was no moon out tonight.

"Follow me."

"I can't see you."

I rolled my eyes. "Then follow the sounds of my footsteps." I could hear her shuffling behind me, then her grab my shoulder. "Or hang onto me," I added sarcastically.

She glared at me. Or, at least, it felt like she was. "I didn't grow up here, okay?"

By then we were in the kitchen. I felt around, opening drawers that were, for the most part, empty. There were a few pieces of balled up paper that I should probably look at later, but no flashlight. Everything that wasn't attached to the house had been stolen, even the goddamn refrigerator. Some asshole probably paid a couple thousand dollars on Ebay for Charles Lee Ray's fridge. Idiots.

"No flashlight."

"Now what?"

"Someplace to sleep," I said. "Were there any couches left in the living room?"

"I dunno."

I sighed. "Come with me." I led her into the living room and, to my surprise, there was a couch. The local bums must've fought to the death for it. Even looked like there was a blood stain or two. But that was probably my fault. "Sleep here. I'm going upstairs."

"I'm not sleeping down here by myself." Nicole didn't sound panicked. Just stubborn as all hell. Like Tiffany.

"Yes, you are," I snapped and headed towards the stairs.

She grabbed my shoulder. "Like hell I am. You are _not_ leaving me alone in this house, especially without a gun."

"And whose fault is it they don't have their knife?" I tested a stair. It seemed pretty sturdy.

"Yeah, but…" Nicole sighed impatiently. "I don't want to. It's all scary and shit."

"You call yourself a serial killer, but you're just a fucking wimp." I was halfway up the stairs by now, and really looking forward to a nice, warm bed. The last thing I wanted to do was stay up all night arguing.

"Fucking ass. Fine, then. Have it your way." She sat down on the couch. It made a strange, groaning noise, but it didn't collapse. "And, by the way, if you were wondering, this is why I was yelling at you for being an inconsiderate asshole and not taking care of me."

I rolled my eyes. "Would you just shut up with the guilt trips already? It's late and I wanna get some sleep."

"I'm not fucking guilt tripping you! I'm telling you the truth! You're just too pigheaded to care!"

"Hey, nobody calls me a pig!" I yelled at her.

"You're right. I'm sorry. That's an insult to pigs. You're more like a…a…" she stuttered, looking for the right word. "As cliché as it sounds, there isn't a word for what you are."

"Then maybe you'll finally shut up!" I shouted and stormed up the stairs. Not a good idea. The stair cracked, sending one leg crashing through. I screamed and tried to pull it out. I only succeeded in scratching it up worse, and probably giving myself a splinter to two to boot.

"Oh my God Chucky are you okay?" Nicole shouted.

"My goddamn leg is stuck in the goddamn stair!"

"Oh, is that all? That's good; I thought someone was upstairs."

"Aren't you gonna help me get out of here?" I yelled at her.

"No, I don't think so."

I gaped at her. "No? What do you mean, no?"

She smirked. "I mean no. Instant karma. You deserve it. I'll get you down tomorrow morning. Right now I'm pretty tired. I'm sure you understand.

"And, remember, if you start screaming, or keep me from sleeping in any other way, the neighbors will hear and call the police."

She was right. Fuck, I hated her.

"Night, Chucky," she mumbled. Nicole lay down on the couch, rolled over and was still. She couldn't be asleep already, could she?

"And what if I fall in the middle of the night?" I spat at her. "What then, huh?"

"You won't break anything. You're just a doll. Just shut up, Chucky. I'm tired."

I wanted to start screaming at her. Swears, annoying songs, nonsense. Whatever. But I couldn't. And it pissed the hell out of me.

"Remember that talk you wanted to have? If you get me down, we can talk. I promise."

"Yeah, yeah. You and your promises."

"Aw, come on. Please? Nicky?" Who ever said I was above begging?

She didn't say anything.

"I'll be your friend until the end."

Nicole started cracking up. It was a long time before she said anything, but it was pretty obvious she wasn't going to do anything.

"You're so cute!" she squealed. "But Andy still didn't help you, remember? At least in the movies."

"But you're so much nicer than him."

"While it's nice to see your ego isn't too big to get this pathetic, it's pretty goddamn annoying. And it's ruining my image of you as a ruthless serial killer. So could you shut up? Please?"

Again, Nicole was right. Fucking bitch. I was being pathetic, and I knew it. It had always worked with Tiffany. But Nicole wasn't Tiffany, and it would be really great if I could remember that.

"Yeah, whatever," I mumbled. I tried to adjust myself so I was a little more comfortable, and failed miserably. I inspected my leg. It was bleeding a little, but not as much as it could be. So no claiming that I was going to bleed to death, even though it was impossible. Nicole might not know that.

It was undoubtedly going to be a very, very long night.

XOxOx

Well, there you have it. Chapter seven. It took me two days for my muse to come back, but eventually it did. Hopefully Chucky is in character again (lemme know about that).

Abbie much love. Really.

Much reviews pretty please?


	8. Interlude

­Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine. Go away.

A/N: I kept on adding things to this until it got ridiculously long, so I finally said "Screw it" and deleted it. The story is what it is, problems or no, and there you have it. Normal chapters will resume after this one.

By the way, do you know how hard it is to explain Chucky and all of his scars to seven-year-olds?

xOxOx

_He is asleep on the stairs, and even in sleep he looks like he's in pain. She thinks that she should really wake him and help him get out, but she can't. Instead she sits on the couch, holding herself and watching him._

_He is beautiful, even when he is in pain. His clothes are stupid, but his hair is cute and his scars turn her on to no end. His mouth twitches up in a semblance of a smile, and she unconsciously echoes it. She wonders what he is dreaming about. Killing? Tiffany? Maybe even her?_

_She hopes it isn't Tiffany. When she first started reading about him and watching the movies and following his story on the news, she had liked Tiffany. She had had a respect for her, and great admiration. Maybe even a little crush. The doll was hot, and Jennifer Tilly's voice was sexy. But as she fell deeper into his world, she had grown to hate her. She was prissy and perfect and, yes, his wife._

_She knew that she was dangerously close to being just like her. She could tell that he was often reminded of Tiffany. He got angry, and his left eye twitched very slightly. Usually he killed something. It hurt her that she couldn't help him, but she couldn't. Soon, though._

_She knew she would eventually have to tell him that she loved him, but he wasn't ready yet. He still thought about Tiffany most of the time. The one kiss had given her hope, but it had also dispirited her. It was only a small kiss, hardly even counted, but it had felt so good. It was the forbidden fruit that she could never have._

_She wasn't even sure she wanted his love. She knew what had made her go with him, and she didn't regret it, but she still wasn't comfortable with killing. She wanted to be, god knew she did, but it just felt wrong. She couldn't tell him, not after what she saw him do to Glen/da in _Seed of Chucky_. Going to him was not an option._

_She would have liked to talk to Tiffany. Even though part of her hated her, she knew him better than anyone else. She would understand her qualms about killing, and comfort her. She would probably try to convince her to come with her and Glen/da, and she might go with her. That was the main reason she had ignored Tiffany, and why she had panicked so much when Tiffany had held her hostage. She was terribly afraid that, if given the chance, she would run._

_What she wanted most was to make him better. It was what she had wanted for all of the serial killers she had fallen in love with. She wanted to convince him that he was good and to make him stop killing. She saw what had happened to Tiffany when she had tried, and so she hadn't yet. But soon she would. Probably while they were in this house._

_She was very curious about his past. She wanted to know why he was like this, who had done it and why. She wanted to cleanse him of his past, to turn him into a new man. She wanted his love, yes, but not a killer's love. She wanted warm, comforting love that would hold her when she was sad and cure her when she was sick. She wanted him to hold her._

_So she had left him in the stairs, hoping it would help him understand what he did to people when he kidnapped and then killed them. It probably wouldn't help. Then again, it might. But she would get him out soon, let him calm down, and then they would talk. They would talk for a long time. Hopefully they wouldn't yell, but knowing him that wasn't very likely. She prayed that he would come out changed._

_She doubted it, but she prayed._

_xOx_

_He is between sleep and wakefulness. He didn't like to be here. He had no control over his thoughts or dreams. Everything was up to what his subconscious thought he needed to be shown, and he hated that._

_He is thinking about Tiffany. He usually thinks about anything else since she left him. He loved her so much. Her presence calmed and soothed him, like a cool hand to a burning forehead. She was beautiful, good in bed and a great cook, no matter what he sometimes said. Yes, she drove him up the wall, but he did love her. And now he misses her with all he has._

_He misses Glen very much too, but he doesn't want to think about his son. Glen reminds him of all that was wrong with him relationship with Tiffany, and he only wants to think about the good. Glen also reminds him of her, and he doesn't want to think about her as a child._

_He thinks he may love her too, though he would never admit it. She was fifteen, twenty years younger than him. A minor. Yes, age matters less when you're a doll, but that didn't make it any less wrong. A year older and it wouldn't bother him as much._

_She is like Tiffany in so many ways, yet totally different. She was a hopeless romantic, yes, and he knew on some deep level that she had a problem with killing, but she wouldn't admit it. She reminds his of Tiffany when they first met, before he had jaded her and turned her into the ruthless killer that she had become. Young, beautiful, naïve._

_He thinks, probably even knows, that she loves him, and this scares him very much. He doesn't want her to turn out like Tiffany is now. She would kill him if he said so out loud, but she _is_ young, beautiful and naïve, even if she doesn't realize it. She is so full of life and love, ready to give it away, confident that it will be returned._

_But he knows that this is only part of her. He senses that her mood swings are only the tip of the iceberg, and that she has some problems she has to work through, probably having to do with her dead parents. But he did too, and he wasn't about to yell at her for running away from her problems when he was the king of avoidance. He had even managed to forget, even for only a few hours, that he had killed Tiffany and Glen._

_That scares him very much. He felt so hopeless when he had forgotten, like he feels in times like these. He is so used to being in total control, it terrifies him when he's not. His one weakness, and he thinks she knows it._

_But maybe it's not his only weakness. Lately he's been feeling like he's on the edge of some great cliff. He is fevered most of the time, though he doesn't know it. He has been fighting with her, and he thinks this isn't how it's supposed to be with her. It's mostly him, though. He feels panicked and rushed. Twice he has ended up in Evidence because he hasn't been able to think of a plan in time. In the old days, he wouldn't even have to think. He would just do, and it turned out okay. Now nothing is going right, and he thinks he might be going crazy._

_The concept seems ridiculous. He is a serial killer, after all, and takes pride in being nuts. But this is different. This is a feeling like he is running out of something crucial, something he cannot live without. He doesn't know what he can do about it, and this makes him feel afraid and lost._

_She has been trying to have a serious conversation for him for a day or two, he can't tell. Time has been running together as well. He thinks he will talk to her about all of this then. He thinks she will be sympathetic, maybe even have a cure for him ready-made, like Tiffany did in the old days, before they were dolls. And if she hates him because of this and leaves, then she is better off._

_He knows that when he wakes up for real, he will remember none of this. These thoughts are not available on a conscious level. Talking to her will unlock them, and he knows that he will have some sort of a breakdown. She will probably want to know all sorts of things about his past, and he will tell her. He will let himself be weak in front of her this one time, and then he will take all of this and lock it away. He will become his old self again, and he will feel right again._

_  
He actually doubts this, but he can always pray._

xOxOx

Well there you have it. Short, OOC, and very important. It's supposed to be OOC, by the way. I don't want to say anything else, but it's supposed to be like this, and it will be better again next chapter. PLEASE review this time, because I've never written anything like this before and I wanna know what you guys think.


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